


Thrust Backwards

by arrcws



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Slow Burn, Violence, time travelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrcws/pseuds/arrcws
Summary: Travelling in time without the use of a Time Turner was supposed to be impossible! Travelling back in time that far was also supposed to be impossible! Even for her brilliant mind, Hermione Granger has absolutely no idea how she wound up in 1944. She has no idea how to get back or what she is supposed to do now! They were so close to finally ending the war! She was stood right there as Harry's spell mixed with Voldemort's.(Please note this work is UN-BETA'd and is the first piece I've wrote in many years.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm putting this note here so it won't be missed. This is the first thing I've wrote in many years, I have a general idea where I want it to lead but it's probably going to go over many chapters. This first chapter is quite short, call it a tester piece if you will to try and get my rusty writing back on track.

It had all happened so quickly.

She pushed herself off from the ground into a kneeling position, her head buzzing. It was almost as though she’d been spending the night drinking a ridiculous amount of alcohol with no form of sustenance and less water. Her entire body ached, a dull thud of an ache which began towards the top of her head and did not break until it reached the tips of her toes. Was she hit by something like a falling rock or a mislaid spell of some kind? There were no panicked voices rushing to see if she was okay, she couldn’t hear the sounds of the spells being fired between him and Harry. Everything had been so loud and now it was deathly quiet.

It was too quiet. Hermione was almost afraid to open her eyes. Gingerly she creaked open one eye and instantly wished she hadn’t. There was nothing! Well, obviously there was something. She was still in the courtyard, hell she was in the exact same place as she had been five minutes earlier. The difference being there were no Death Eaters, nor were there any students. Harry and Voldemort had vanished.

“What…?” She questioned, a million thoughts rapidly running through her mind but not one stuck. For once, the brilliant mind of Hermione Granger could not come up with a single logical reason for this oddity. 

The courtyard looked as she remembered it, but more intact. Nothing was broken. She glanced up to the large ornate clock and found it read roughly the same time as it had when she last looked at it. Had she moved or had they? Utterly confused and with no plan in her mind she pushed through the doors. Half expecting to find a gaggle of students celebrating the Dark Lord’s defeat and half expecting more of the same nothingness. 

She found the latter.

The Castle’s interior was much as she remembered, yet still it seemed oddly darker to her. She ran her hands up and down her arms, not because she was cold but because she couldn’t quite shift the feeling of unease that ran the length of her spine. She wandered through the deserted corridors hoping to run across someone, anyone! Hell she’d even be happy to see Peeves! But the castle, for all intents and purposes seemed utterly deserted.

“You look lost, love.” A voice came from the left of her as she reached the staircase. Hermione gave a little squeak of surprise as she turned and was faced with a portrait. Her hand had clenched over her breast as though clutching her heart. Which was beating quite a considerable amount faster. “Are you feeling quite alright Miss?” 

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” Hermione replied, the lie clearly etched by the way her tone broke. 

“Without sounding too much like a nag,” The portrait continued, “But I must point out the fact that you look like a lost lamb. Not to mention that you appear to be quite filthy and covered in what I hope to be dried mud.”

Of course Hermione had just been in the middle of a bloody war zone which apparently hadn’t touched _this_ castle. She had been rather preoccupied wandering around looking for someone, anyone who could tell her what was going on that she hadn’t thought much of her current appearance. She must have looked an absolute fright! By now the other portraits on the stairwell were nodding in earnest, one even held up a mirror for her to look in.

She had patches of dried dirt on her face, her hair was covered in dust making her look grey in patches. Though to be fair with all she’d been through she wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she had found grey hair. Her clothes were torn in places, cuts and bruises marred her flesh where it could be seen and there was evidence of dried on blood on her clothes. Not all of it hers either.

“It’s been a rough day.” She stated, to which some of the portraits simply said ‘clearly.’ Hermione was tired, her head was hurting and still this made absolutely no sense to her. How could it? People didn’t just blink and end up somewhere else, well they could if they apparated but seriously! This was taking the proverbial cake! “I don’t suppose you could tell me where I am? Or when I am…” She asked them, to which she got some rather odd looks. However the voice that answered her was somewhat hauntingly familiar, yet at the same time lacked that bit of gentility that it normally held. Or was it tiredness that was missing. As she looked up, her eyes met the blue eyes of one Albus Dumbledore… a decidedly less silver haired and evidently younger Albus Dumbledore.

“You are in Hogwarts.” He stated, “And the date is August 27th 1944.”

_Well…. Shit._


	2. All those technicalities.

1944? No, that couldn’t be right! How can it be 1944? She stared up at Dumbledore with a look somewhere between shock and horror and an odd impulse to ask if he was absolutely certain. _This has to be a dream! I’ve been knocked unconscious._ Panic was beginning to well up in her chest once more, her breathing became strained as she once again clutched at her heart. How could this be happening? She hadn’t used a Time Turner, hell even if she had a Time Turner they were only supposed to be able to travel a few hours back! She’d gone back decades! Something that she was told was physically impossible! The mind wasn’t supposed to be able to cope with that, not only the repercussions of what could happen to any witch or wizard that meddled to that extent! 

Her eyes didn’t leave Dumbledore’s, but rather than him looking at her kindly he was regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and mistrust. Something she was not used to seeing on the wizened face. “Come with me Miss…?” He allowed his sentence to hang there in a question and though she didn’t really hear herself answer, she must have as he used her last name in a bid to get her to follow him. Hermione’s mind was a whir yet not yielding any answers. Only seeming to garner more questions. Her head hung low, the only sound in the hallway was the light click of Dumbledore’s boots on the floor. She barely registered where they were going before she found herself sat in an armchair beside a blazing fire with a mug of hot chocolate.

_If it isn’t tea, it’s hot chocolate. The universes equivalent to a quick fix._

Yet as the warmth from the fire and the hot chocolate seeped into her bones, Hermione felt herself calming. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle crackling of the firewood as the flames ate and bit at the wood to keep its warmth alive. She wondered how long it would be until the questions and idly wondered how many of them she could actually answer. Could she lie to him? Hermione was not the most skilled at deceiving people, she sometimes wore her emotions on her sleeve and had in the past, let them get the best of her sometimes. Yet in recent times she would have liked to believe she wasn’t quite as sensitive as she once was. Besides that, wasn’t he a skilled legillimens too? _Fuck!_ It was almost as though a light had switched on somewhere, he could see her thoughts! Quickly she snapped her mental shields in place, something she’d been practising while hunting horcruxes, and allowed the thick fog to cloud over her mind. She wasn’t sure if he was even looking, part of her liked to think she’d know if someone was trying to see into her mind, covertly or otherwise but honestly she’d had no actual practise with it.

“Miss Granger,” He began finally while Hermione brought her cup to her lips. “That is not a name I am familiar with.”

“You’re not, yet.” She answered honestly. “You don’t actually know me… yet.” She furrowed her brow as she tried to think on how to tell him without giving away any crucial details. “It’s complicated. I don’t even know how or why I’m here.”

“Here in 1944?” He asked, one eyebrow raising quizzingly. “I have surmised as much that you are a Time Traveller of some kind, yet I see no Time Turner and since you seem to not know how you got here I’m going to assume you also don’t know how to get back.”

For a moment she hoped she’d just poof back as quickly as she poofed here. Yet she knew even with Time Turners they had to wait until they caught up with themselves. The thought of spending fifty some years just to get back to her own time seem ridiculous! Her entire life was in 1998! Her friends were all there! Her family, granted at the moment her family wouldn’t miss her as she had obliviated them but it was beside the point! She wanted – no needed – to go home. She simply shook her head in answer to Dumbledore’s statement and when he asked if she had been a Hogwarts student she simply nodded. 

“I’m in the final year.” She answered. “Gryffindor but…”

She let out a sigh. Technically she hadn’t lied, she was in her final year, but she hadn’t gone. She was also a Gryffindor but… _technicalities._

After a lengthy discussion, more questions with vague answers, it was deemed that Hermione would join the students of Hogwarts under the cover of being a new student. The story that had been settled one was simplistic in its design. Technically speaking witches and wizards didn’t have to attend a magical school, they could be home-schooled so that had been the story they’d settled on. Rather than state that she was a pure-blood, it was deemed that having the name Granger would pose too many questions, so instead she was to simply say she was half-blood and her mother had been schooling her. However coming up to N.E.W.T.S her mother had thought it best she attend Hogwarts where the schooling would be structured. She would be taking the mandatory six core lessons along with Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of the Magical Creatures. She was also allowed to stay in Gryffindor, which Hermione was very grateful for.

\---------------------------------------------

With the help of Dumbledore she’d managed to secure everything she needed for the new year at Hogwarts. Despite being out of her time, in true Hermione fashion she was looking forward to it. Immersing herself in books, studying and finally being back in the library was the one thing she knew could keep her going. It was the only thing about the entire situation that felt normal to her. The thought of finding new friends though terrified her, socialising was not one of Hermione’s strongest suits. Hence why she found herself sat at the very far corner of the Gryffindor table at the sorting feast, her back firmly planted facing the wall and her head down staring at an empty plate. She was vehemently trying to ignore the curious stares of her new classmates. A lump had formed in her throat, her stomach had twisted uncomfortably into knots. She didn’t like being the centre of attention, she could practically hear the buzz coming from people’s minds, full of questions she didn’t want to answer. Thankfully, Headmaster Dippet seemed to address it before people could fire questions at her.

“Welcome back old students, and welcome to our new students.” He spoke, Hermione raised her eyes, careful to avoid anyone else’s. “Now that the sorting is over, we will begin our feast momentarily. However I would first like to address that we have another student joining us this year. Miss Granger, who prior to this evening was sorted into Gryffindor, has come to Hogwarts to study for her N.E.W.T.S and I hope you will join me in making sure she feel’s welcome.”

By this point, Hermione’s head had dropped back down. The Gryffindor’s clapped heartedly, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joined in succession, but the Slytherins remained stoic as their eyes locked on the Gryffindor table. Hermione didn’t look in their direction but she could almost feel their eyes boring into her. 

_It’s like being a first year all over again_. She thought to herself as food suddenly appeared on the table. She picked at it, not really eating anything and she was grateful when the pudding’s eventually vanished. That usually signified the finishing of the feast. As people began to leave, the first years following quickly behind their house prefect’s, Hermione waited until the biggest portion had left before getting up with a sigh. It was then she saw him, a face she didn’t want to see and yet had been curious about too. She’d never seen so much as a picture of him, yet she’d heard the description from Harry and Ginny. Even so, she wasn’t prepared for how striking he was.

He was handsome, even Ginny had said as much. He had pale skin, dark hair and dark eyes. Yet it wasn’t just his looks that was attractive, it was his sense of self. Even from the other side of the room Hermione could feel the waves of confidence oozing out of him. It both peaked her curiosity and terrified her. She had the sudden urge to bolt from the room, yet found herself stood quite transfixed. He was staring right at her, he seemed to be staring through her, like her soul was laid bare for him to see. He wasn’t looking at her coldly, or with any form of emotion as such but there was a slight curiosity in his stare. She suddenly began to understand how a mouse felt dangled infront of a snake. It was unnerving. 

“That is Tom Riddle.” Came a voice, breaking her out her reverie. Hermione looked to her left and found a blonde girl speaking to her. “He’s the Head Boy, good looking and he knows it. He’s had girls flinging themselves at his feet for years but he hasn’t ever seemed interested in any of them. I’d be careful though, despite his charm he can be quite… harsh.”

_Like a storm._

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” Hermione spoke, though as she moved her eyes back to the Slytherin table, Tom Riddle was gone. As the blonde left the hall, Hermione sucked air back into her lungs. The feeling of unease seemed to rid of itself for now. Yet she knew she had to face many more months under the same roof as him, which brought the knots back to her stomach. Hermione knew what he became, the disaster in which he would bring. The hurt, heartbreak and horror. She’d lived through some of it! She’d been tortured by his followers, yet she still stood. She had survived when he’d been completely powerful. Surely she could survive this? In fact, she made an inward promise to do just that. She would not be intimidated him, she would not be fearful of him. She’d spent too long being afraid of him, too long fighting against everything he stood for. She absolutely would not allow just the presence of him to get the better of her. She steeled herself as she walked out of the hall and heading back to the Gryffindor common room. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.


	3. Not a Denial

She was one of the first ones awake; light snoring still filled the girl’s dormitory. She closed her eyes and willed sleep to take her again, but her mind was just not settling. With a grumble, she pushed the covers off herself and padded out of the dormitory and into the shared girl’s bathroom. She looked at her reflection, her eyes were wide and bright but her hair – as usual – was a tangled mess of curls. She looked like she’d been fighting with the pillow in her sleep. Hermione sighed as she began working through the nest that sat on the top her head. Eventually she managed to tame the wild beast just enough for it to look presentable at least. 

Twenty minutes later Hermione emerged, dressed and ready to face the day. She knew it must have been early as none of the students seemed to be moving. Not that it mattered much to her; she shoved her robe on and flung her satchel over her shoulders. It hung heavily at her side, a familiar weight she was glad of, before heading out of the common room completely.

The corridors were mostly empty, even the portraits had their pyjama hats still on. Every once in a while a student would go by, clearly unable to sleep. Judging by most of them it was clear they were seventh years like she was; was it N.E.W.T nerves? She wondered idly, that kept them awake until this time? She knew her nerves had nothing to do with the exams, which were still a year away, and more to do with the fact she was out of her time, out of her comfort zone and so very clearly out of place. Hermione wasn’t one for fitting in, she didn’t conform, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to fit in; on the contrary! She was what you would probably call socially awkward. Hermione was one of the rare ones who’d rather spend her time in the library studying and actually get somewhere in life, than following some boy around because he was good looking. She figured there’d be plenty of time to lose her head over a guy _after_ she graduated and not before.

Hopefully she’d be home by then, too.

It didn’t take her long to reach the library and find a nice secluded spot to sit a read through some of her texts. She figured she should have been using the time to find a way home, but even in her time she knew there was absolutely nothing in the school library that could help her. Time Turners were mentioned in a couple of the books, but only briefly and they stressed that a Time Turner could not go back for more than a few hours. Hermione was determined to find a way home but without any idea on where to start she found herself falling back into her old patterns. For a moment she forgot about when she was, the little corner she sat in with the book open in front of her reminded her so much of her Hogwarts that she’d almost forgotten this wasn’t her Hogwarts. Part of her wondered how long it would take Ron to come and find her and complain he was missing out on breakfast because they’d been looking for her.

But of course that voice never came. Instead the one that did made Hermione freeze; all at once her entire spine felt like someone had dropped a bucket full of ice down it.

“Hello.” It was simple and sounded courteous. Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat, so much for not allowing herself to be intimidated. “You missed breakfast, I was told to give you this.” In his outstretched hand was a piece of parchment, she took it from him with a muttered thanks and glanced down at it. It was her class timetable, honestly she hadn’t realised she’d been sat in the library for so long. Hermione hadn’t even heard the sounds of other students rushing around. She glanced down and noticed her first lesson was Charms. A relatively easy one at least. She had hoped that while she’d been looking over her timetable that Riddle would have left, but apparently not. He stood in the same position, his dark eyes watching her carefully, curiously? Either way, the hair on the back of Hermione’s neck stood on end. Sucking down a breath of air, she shoved the book back into her bag and slung the satchel back over her shoulder. With another thanks, she began to walk past him and head out of the library. 

She should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” He asked, his voice was smooth and rich. It didn’t hold the same hiss she’d become accustomed to. Hermione was a head shorter than he was, his legs were also longer than hers so it didn’t take much effort on his part to keep pace with the girl at all. 

“I’ve had a few days before term to get accustomed the castle.” She answered sharply, not meeting his gaze. She did not want to get involved in conversation with him. No, no, no definitely no! “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Of course.” He answered, the unmistakeable hint of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. She didn’t want to be this close to him, she didn’t want to speak to him. “But as I also have Charms I may as well make sure you get there in one piece. We wouldn’t want something happening to you on your first day, would we?”

This pulled Hermione short and she stopped. Turning for the first time to look at him. His eyebrows raised in amusement as a flash of annoyance passed over Hermione’s features. “Are you threatening me?” She asked boldly, the courage of her house finally seeping through. Or maybe it was stupidity considering who she was talking to. She had known by now he had at least two horcruxes already, which meant he’d already killed. She also knew that he’d opened the chamber of secrets; yes Hermione knew _exactly_ how dangerous this strikingly handsome boy was. 

“Why would I threaten you?” Riddle folded his arms, not bothering to hide the amused smile that pulled on his features. The Head Boy badge glinted at her but rather than rise to the bait Hermione turned and continued walking down the hallway. “I was simply stating that I would hate for you to get lost, this castle is known for it’s tricks and turns and if you don’t know it—“

“I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” She ground out. She knew this castle and it’s tricks like the back of her hand. She’d spent all her teenage life here. She knew she couldn’t tell him that, but she was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. 

Finally she reached the Charms classroom and without so much as looking at Riddle, she pushed open the door and chose an empty seat next to the blonde girl she’d spoke to briefly. Riddle’s eyes flashed as he watched her stalk through the room and throw herself down in an empty chair. He purposely sat on the opposite side of the room, right in her line of sight. Hermione growled in annoyance once more and chose to focus on the desk in front of her. Was she daft? Why would she bait him like that? Being openly hostile to Tom _fucking_ Riddle was bound to get her in a whole heap of trouble that she positively knew she could live without. 

“He’s staring at you.” Came the hushed voice of the blonde girl next to her. Hermione looked up at Riddle who didn’t even bother to avert his eyes. With a groan she let her head fall to the desk with the silent prayer, shoot me now.

\--------------------------------------------

Hermione had managed to get out of the classroom first and practically ran down the corridor, away from Charms and away from Riddle. Her lungs burned, her shoulder ached uncomfortably as she raced through the hallways. She ran and ignored the shouts from the portraits about not running in the corridors. She just had to get away from there, away from him with his pretty eyes and smirking face that she’d be more than happy to punch. Just like she did with Malfoy. Hell, she was sure that would wipe that smirk off his face! Though she expected she wouldn’t last too long after that. _Worth it though. Arrogant bastard._

The rest of the day passed without an incident, despite having practically all her lessons with Riddle she’d successfully managed to avoid him. Ellie, the blonde Gryffindor who had told her Riddle was staring at her, had also mentioned he’d been asking about her. He was curious about the new girl who kept running away from him. Ellie had laughed and told her it was probably because he was so used to people running to him, it was a novelty to have someone run away from him. Either way, she’d managed to gain the attention of the one person she really could have done with ignoring her. This was just her luck. 

After the final lesson of the day, Hermione was free from his stares and wondering expressions. She bolted from the DADA classroom the moment the Professor dismissed them, and though she didn’t run this time she kept up a fairly brisk pace. Following the corridors as they wound and twisted until she was convinced she’d managed to put some distance between the two of them. She allowed herself to breathe, for what felt like the first time of the entire day. Her eyes closed as she leant back on the wall, he head against the cold stone. _It’ll be alright._ She kept repeating those words like a mantra in her mind. _It’ll be alright._

She recognised the feeling that was building inside her, she wasn’t stupid. She knew she attracted to the dangerous boy with his hauntingly good looks. It was easy for her to proclaim to hate him and all he stood for, not to mention all the atrocities she knew he would commit. Yet at the same time she was only human. She was a seventeen year old female for crying out loud! Yes she had hormones and she wasn’t immune to good looks either, no matter how much she wished she was. No, the simplest option would be to simply stay away from him. She couldn’t be in danger from a growing attraction then, could she? 

With a new determination brimming inside her, she pushed off from the wall and with purpose began striding back down the corridor. As she rounded yet another corner she collided with something hard. A small ‘oomph!’ passed from her lips as a pair of strong hands reached out and gripped her arms, trying to steady her. Unfortunatly it only served to kilter her more off balance as she moved and found herself on the floor, a mess of tangled limbs. Lifting her head, ready to apologise for her complete clumsiness and lack of concentration, her apology died on her tongue. Dark eyes stared at her from underneath the mess of dark hair. The one person she’d promised herself she would avoid was the one person she’d found herself on the floor with. _Fuck my life._ She’d never sworn so much, even internally but this was beginning to take the biscuit!

“Granger,” He almost purred, how could one person’s tone be so damn smooth? Like melted chocolate ready to be dipped – yeah stop that thought right now. “Do you often find yourself jumping on unsuspecting people in the corridors?” Her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. She was vaguely aware of his hands no longer being on her arms and instead settling on her waist as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. _More like straddling him!_ His mouth turned up in a smirk again, a popular expression for him it seemed. Yet he made no attempt to move from the compromising position. 

“I did not jump on you!” She growled, she pushed hard against his chest using her fists and _accidentally_ pushed her knee into his thigh. He visibly winced as he righted himself and dusted himself off. He was going to be a constant thorn in her side, this she was fast realising. “Just do us both a favour and stay away from me, Riddle.”

“Stay away from you?” He laughed, “Yet you’re the one running into me, I would hazard to guess you don’t really want me to stay away from you.”

“You’re delusional.” She bit, not missing the flash of annoyance creep across his features. She was also painfully aware that the corridor they were in was one not really used by anyone. She doubted, especially at this time, that anyone would wander down here. “Why would I want to be in the same breathing distance as you?”

“You’re attracted to me, it’s obvious.” He ran a hand through his hair, the annoying knowing smirk fixed back on his features. “Are you blushing?”

“What!?” She spluttered, pulling her satchel around to her stomach as though it was a protective lifeline. She made to back up but everytime she did, he just advanced on her until her back was firmly against a wall. “You’re so full of yourself thinking every female adores you. Get over yourself.”

He just smiled as he placed his hands on either side of her head. Her heart sped up, thumping loudly in her chest. Her eyes went wide, now she was uncomfortable being this close to Tom Riddle. 

“That wasn’t a denial.” He pointed out. Hermione scoffed and slapped his hand away, making to move past him and get out of his vicinity. Tom’s hand closed around her wrist and pulled her back, his eyes flashed angrily. It wasn’t usual for people to disrespect him the way she had so blatantly on several occasions and he was growing tired of it. Using his weight he pinned her back to the wall and leant forward, his breath ghosting over her ear. “Hermione,” Her name fell from his mouth and she closed her eyes. Later she’d tell herself it was her way of trying to block out his voice and just hope that he’d go away. “Do you enjoy lying to yourself? Look at you, you’re almost begging for my attention.”

That snapped her back to reality and she used all the force she could muster to push him away from her. “You’re insane.” She spat before running down the corridor. Even as she rounded the corner she could hear his laughter and the comment of ‘You’ll come around eventually.’ She closed her eyes as she continued running, willing back the tears that were threatening to fall. Never had she felt more alone than she did right in that moment. She wished Harry and Ron were there to support her because right at that moment Hermione was scared that he was right.

She needed a new game plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a bit longer than the previous.


End file.
